All Hallow's Eve
by DogwoodsAndBluebells
Summary: A part of the It Takes a Village universe. When Steve is called away to the helicarrier on Halloween night, Clint has to step in and take his place as Prince Charming. Rated for language.


Summary: A part of the _It Takes a Village_ universe. When Steve is called away to the helicarrier on Halloween night, Clint has to step in and take his place as Prince Charming. Rated for language.

**Disclaimer: Abby is mine. That is all.**

* * *

All Hallow's Eve

* * *

"That is not a costume."

The statement resounded flatly in the open spaces of the first floor, and Bruce glanced up from his newspaper. Clint was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, dressed head to toe in black, with his eyes fixed on the entrance to the lower levels. Bruce followed his gaze and Tony stepped into view, clad in a pair of sweatpants and his favorite Black Sabbath shirt.

"Hypocrite," the billionaire replied as he fixed himself a glass of scotch and joined the archer. "You're wearing tactical gear for trick-or-treating. Lame."

Clint raised a brow, crossing his arms, and gave Tony an arch look. "As opposed to going as a hobo with bad facial hair?"

"I believe you mean impeccable facial hair," Tony corrected. Bruce shook his head, folding his newspaper and turning his attention to the conversation. "Your mistake."

"You did promise Abby that you were going to dress up, Tony," Steve calmly reminded him, stepping down the stairs and nodding at Bruce.

Abby's first Halloween with the Avengers had come and gone with little celebration in the wake of her arrival at the mansion, but she'd specifically asked that she go trick-or-treating in town this year. Clint gave his permission and immediately mapped a safe route. The archer vetted each person in town, despite Tony's protests that the families living there were all either current or retired employees of Stark Industries and, therefore, perfectly trustworthy.

Pepper was completely in favor of the plan and offered to help Abby choose a costume. The little girl was beside herself with excitement, but, when faced with the monumental decision of which Disney princess to be, she couldn't choose. Pepper, seeing her dilemma, bought a miniaturized dress of each. Tony was asked along on the excursion and Clint volunteered to drive, ensuring control of the route. Steve was, unsurprisingly, asked to be the main chaperone, so Pepper purchased him complementary costumes for each Disney prince.

Steve showed no emotion when Clint burst into laughter at the sight of him. Bruce was hard-pressed not to join the archer, but Pepper's attention to detail was impeccable. The soldier was dressed in a cream-colored, velvet jacket with golden epaulets and a matching belt. He wore a bright red pair of trousers, a gold stripe running down the seam, with pristine white gloves covering his hands and shiny black boots on his feet.

Clint pointed a shaky finger at him, finally calming down enough to choke out, "Where did you get that?"

"Pepper bought one of those for each prince to match each of the princess dresses that was bought for the munchkin, when she couldn't decide which princess she wanted to be," Tony answered, his lips twitching with amusement at Steve's couture. Bruce glanced towards the foyer, hearing the sound of the front door opening. Maria appeared in the doorway, stopping cold at the sight of Steve and missing Bruce's wave. "It seems that the pipsqueak finally picked Cinderella."

"Oh my God, what are you wearing?"

Steve spun at the sound of Maria's incredulous voice, his expression slightly panicked. Clint grinned, close to laughter again. "He's Prince Charming."

"Clearly," she responded, her eyes laughing. She stepped further into the room and waved at everyone.

Steve looked mildly vexed. "I couldn't tell her 'no'."

Tony was eyeing Maria with a narrowed gaze. "You're not in costume, Hellfire, unless you've decided to go as a SHIELD agent, which would suck, by the way. So, why are you here?"

Maria shot him a glare at her nickname and faced Steve, inhaling deeply. "I'm sorry, but you're needed on the helicarrier. There's been a development with the Council and they are demanding your presence."

"I'm very sorry, but I have a previous engagement, as you can see," Steve said softly, gesturing to his costume. Bruce raised his brows at Steve's firm tone. "Send my regrets?"

"I would love to," Maria replied, meeting his gaze regretfully. "But I'm going to have to insist."

Steve blinked at her for a moment and then sighed. He rubbed a hand across his brow. "How am I going to tell her?"

"I'm glad it's not me," Tony muttered, ignoring Steve's dark look.

Clint coughed lightly into his hand, glancing up the stairs. "Well, you're going to have to figure it out, because she's coming down."

Bruce turned at Clint's statement and grinned. Abby hopped into view, clad in a perfect, pint-sized version of Cinderella's ball gown, Natasha following. The silvery-blue fabric shimmered in the light, the bell shaped skirt brushing the wall as Abby descended. Her little face shone with happiness and she waved joyfully at Steve when she saw him.

Natasha smiled at the gathered group, her expression faltering slightly at the sight of Maria. Leaning down to Abby's level, the redhead pointed at Steve. "There's your prince, princess."

Abby hurried to him. The soldier knelt on one knee and opened his arms, catching her when she threw herself into them. Clint rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen, retrieving a beer from the refrigerator. Natasha grinned at him fondly when he returned to the group,

"And this," she murmured as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek. "Is mine. Why is Maria here?"

"The Council ordered Steve to the helicarrier," he replied quietly, draining half the bottle. "Tonight."

Natasha narrowed her eyes and Bruce felt relieved that the glare was not directed at him. "He's going trick-or-treating."

Clint nodded at the soldier. "Apparently not."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Steve was murmuring to Abby, wiping at the lone tear that tracked down towards her quivering lips. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped her cheek. "But it's hero stuff. I promise you'll still have Uncle Tony and Uncle Clint with you."

Maria leaned towards Natasha. "I feel awful about this. I wish he didn't have to come immediately."

"Don't feel too bad," Natasha answered, eyeing the billionaire. "She'll still have a prince."

Tony looked over at her statement with wide eyes, and Bruce snickered. "Uh, no. Absolutely not."

Natasha glared at him, clearly gearing for an argument. "Yes."

"No." Tony shook his head.

She sighed. "Someone has to do it."

"I vote Barton," he shot back.

Clint glared blackly at him. "No."

The archer returned his gaze to the front and leaned slightly back when he found Abby at his feet, staring up at him with pleading eyes. He visibly wavered, his mouth falling open with surprise, and Steve rose.

The soldier calmly unfastened the jacket and slipped it from his shoulders. Stepping forward, he held the garment out to Clint. Clint shook his head slowly, taking one step back when Steve advanced again. Abby tottered forward as well and stood on her tiptoes, curling her fingers into the pockets of Clint's cargo pants for balance.

"Please?"

Clint blinked at her, oblivious to Maria stifling her laughter, and heaved a sigh. He drained his beer and snatched the jacket from Steve's hand. "There is not enough alcohol for this."

Abby clapped her hands as Clint removed his tactical jacket and dropped it on the back of the couch. He yanked the costume coat onto his shoulders and stomped into the kitchen, returning with another bottle. Steve and Maria said their goodbyes and left, nodding hello to Pepper when they headed to the front door.

Pepper smiled a greeting at the group, frowning towards the foyer. "What's going on?"

"The Council wants Steve, so Clint is taking his place," Bruce answered, finally leaving the kitchen table and joining the crowd. She nodded understandingly as Abby began tugging Tony's hand, leading him downstairs to the garage.

Pepper narrowed her eyes at the billionaire. "Where is your costume?"

"Downstairs," he replied nonchalantly, nearly draining his scotch.

"No." Tony glanced in her direction and Bruce raised his eyebrows at her stern expression. "You are not allowed to go as yourself for Halloween."

"Why the hell not?" Tony asked in exasperation. "I am the perfect costume. For men," he amended at Abby's small humph of irritation.

She rolled her eyes. "You are Iron Man every day. Pick something else to be. And how many drinks is this?"

"Four, maybe. I lost track," he muttered, shrugging. "I'll repaint one of the suits and be War Machine."

"Still no." Pepper smiled lightly at him and shook her head. "Be creative. There's a closet full of costumes in Steve's room that he didn't use. Find one in there."

Tony downed the last of his drink, grumbling. "Just a few more minutes, munchkin," he promised Abby. "It looks like I need a costume."

Glaring at Pepper as he walked past, Tony ascended the stairs and barged into Steve's room. As Pepper had said, Steve's carefully pressed plaid shirts and khakis were shoved to the side and a multitude of brightly colored costumes hung from the rack.

Flipping through, Tony noted an outfit for each Disney prince, a tattered green mass that he finally recognized as a Peter Pan costume, and a small garment stuck in with the rest that was very clearly an Abby-sized Hulk costume, complete with gloves in the shape of large fists.

Tony blinked at the verdant, padded outfit for a moment and flicked his gaze to the end of the row where a hint of blue stood out. Twitching the sleeve of Steve's uniform from the rest of the clothes, he smiled to himself.

* * *

"Steve is going to kill him," Bruce muttered beneath his breath when Tony walked downstairs, his arc reactor perfectly illuminating the star on the uniform chest.

Pepper groaned. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

Tony shrugged. "You said be creative. I was creative. What do you think, pipsqueak?"

Abby gave him a long once-over, scrutinizing the way that Steve's uniform hung from Tony's lither frame and bunched at his sneakers. Eventually, she nodded, her little face split wide with a grin.

"Alright then. She approves," he told Pepper, hoisting Steve's shield onto his shoulder. "It's time to go. This damn thing is heavier than it looks."

"Fine." Clint finished his second beer. "Let me get the keys."

"No!" Everyone turned to Abby, shocked at her uncharacteristic outburst. The little girl hurried over to Clint, pressing her palms to his torso. "You can't drive us."

"Well, why the hell not?"

She frowned at the empty beer bottles on the table. "Uncle Tony says you can't drink and drive."

Natasha snorted, turning away to hide her laughter. Clint stared at the little girl blocking the doorway. "What the fuck?"

"And what else does Uncle Tony say?" the billionaire prompted, grinning slightly at Clint's stupefied expression.

"You can't drink and drive or fly," she recited.

Bruce couldn't contain his laughter. "Alright," he offered. "How about I drive, shehad?"

She eyed him for a moment, inspecting him for any trace of alcohol. "Kay."

"Great idea, Bruce," Pepper said with a smile. "Then you can keep an eye on them and make sure they don't eat all of the candy. Especially Clint."

"Two beers in and everyone thinks I'm fucking drunk," Clint mumbled, walking back to the fridge and missing the alarmed look on Abby's face. "If I'm not driving anymore, then I get to take the rest of my six pack with me. I can't do this sober."

"Fine." Pepper raised an eyebrow as he passed her. "I didn't realize Prince Charming wore combat boots. Or carried a Glock."

He set the carton on the counter and used the edge to open a bottle, toasting her mockingly. "This one does."

* * *

The streets weren't quite teeming with trick-or-treaters, but there were a decent number of packs that roamed the sidewalks. Clint let Abby lead the group, but he remained right behind her as she held tight to Tony's hand. Bruce had parked the Audi at the end of the first street, sighing at the empty beer bottles and additional glass of scotch that marked the backseat. The scientist watched with amusement as Abby marched her two costumed chaperones from house to house.

Tony, clearly in possession of a healthy buzz, joked and flirted with the candy givers, making up for the fact that Abby was still uncomfortable with speaking much at all, let alone to strangers. Clint stood sullenly to the side, the Prince Charming jacket pulled haphazardly over his shoulders and still unfastened. Bruce preferred to hang back and watch the proceedings, which were the most entertainment he'd had in a week.

They'd managed to hit one full street and move the car to a second before Tony acquired his entourage. The billionaire had no idea, and it seemed that Clint didn't either, but Bruce was very aware of the followers.

The first was a boy that couldn't have been any older than Abby, dressed as a small Captain America. He stared at Tony as he and his mother passed, keeping his eye contact, and turned an about-face when Tony continued walking the opposite direction. Bruce heard a whispered, "But Mom, _look_" when she quietly protested. The mother caved with a sigh and allowed them to change course, walking slightly ahead of Bruce.

The next two that joined were clearly siblings, an older brother and his little sister out for the night. The boy was dressed as a swashbuckling pirate, with a rather resplendent cape that Thor would approve of, and the sister was a tiny Natasha, a brilliant red wig tugged over her hair.

It was the mini-Nat that gave the group away. Clint had noticed her a few houses back, smirking with amusement at her costume, and soon realized that she kept popping into his field of vision. When Abby and Tony knocked on another door, Clint finally turned around to find the mass of children that had collected at the edge of the sidewalk.

"Uh, dude." He elbowed Tony. "You have an entourage."

"Of course I do," the billionaire replied easily. "Abby is perfect, but you're looking a little grumpy."

"Yeah, that's not what I meant."

Tony swiveled at Clint's statement and blinked at the group behind them. Abby hid slightly behind his leg, curling her fingers into Steve's uniform pants. Seeing that they'd finally been noticed, the little Cap ran boldly forward.

"Hi Captain Amer -," he paused, squinting up at Tony's face. "You're not Captain America."

"I am tonight, kid," Tony told him with a smirk. The little boy frowned at him with consternation, but remained silent.

One of the girls that had joined the group stepped forward. "Can we have a picture with you, Captain Iron Man?"

Tony grinned swiftly. "Oh, I like that."

"Changing your name, now?" Bruce asked, stepping forward. He held a hand out for Abby and she gripped it in both of hers.

Tony shrugged. "It has a nice ring to it. Picture time."

The billionaire walked over to the girl and her friend, putting his arms around them and joking to the point that they were nearly doubled with laughter. When their mother finally got a decent picture, others began piping up with similar requests.

The mini-Nat was watching Clint fiercely and, after a moment, stomped over to him. Clint merely blinked at her and she faltered, turning to Bruce instead.

"Can I have a picture with Hawkeye?"

Bruce choked on air. "Well -,"

"Yes."

Both men glanced down at Abby, who was still clinging to Bruce's hand. The little girl looked up unwaveringly at Clint, her expression challenging. Clint bit back on a sigh.

"Sure, kid."

The mini-Nat nodded. "Hold on."

She darted away and Clint crossed his arms sternly, meeting Abby's eye. "What the fuck was that?"

"It's nice, and Uncle Steve says we're supposed to be nice," Abby insisted. "And Aunt Natasha would think it was funny."

"She's got you there," Bruce murmured, his attention caught by the bright red wig tumbling in their direction. "Oh my God."

Clint turned and snorted involuntarily. The little Natasha had a prop bow clutched between her fingers that she offered up to Clint. "To make it real," she explained. "Because you don't have yours."

Clint nodded, his lips twitching, and faced the girl's brother, who was watching the proceedings with a sense of stunned awe. The archer knelt to her level and gingerly put one arm around her waist. She shoved at it, not unkindly, and repositioned herself, adopting a defensive fighting stance. Clint grinned wryly and mimicked her.

They held various fighting poses for a couple of pictures before finally settling into a simple stance. She stood at his side, smiling widely, and he gingerly put one arm around her waist. The boy snapped a final picture on his cellphone and gave his sister a thumbs up.

There was a split second of motionlessness, and then the mini-Nat pitched to the side and pressed a kiss to Clint's cheek. He froze, caught off guard, and in that moment, she ripped the borrowed bow from his hands and took off in the opposite direction.

Bruce slapped a hand over his mouth, certain that he would not be able to contain his grin. The older brother stared at Clint with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," the boy mumbled, stepping in the direction his sister had gone.

"Kid." Clint's rough voice stopped him, and he turned back. "Don't be sorry. Not a problem."

He nodded once and left, following his sister's path. The archer rose and faced Bruce, narrowing his eyes into a black glare at the scientist's amusement. "Shut up."

Bruce couldn't contain himself any more, bursting into laughter. "You did say that you thought it was crap that Steve and Tony and Thor got all the attention," Bruce reminded him when he composed himself. "I think this qualifies as attention."

Clint crossed his arms and watched Tony for a moment. Abby tugged on his jacket and he glanced down at her, raising a brow at the mischievous look on her little face.

"I'm telling Aunt Natasha," she informed him, and Bruce erupted into laughter again.

* * *

Tony had attracted more of a crowd by the time they joined him, and some of the smaller ones were beginning to show signs of tiredness. Mothers and fathers started shooing their charges towards home and Tony stood for one last picture with a gang of seven year olds.

The group was nearly dispersed when one of the boys glanced at his eye level and then tugged on Tony's sleeve. "You have something brown on your butt."

Tony stared at the kid for a moment and then twisted his torso around. "Where?"

Bruce watched him turn for a moment and stepped forward, clamping his hands on Tony's shoulders. "Hold still," he murmured, inspecting the suit and trying not to think about who was taking pictures of him staring at Tony's backside. True to the boy's word, there was a small streak of brown in the center of Tony's right cheek. "Steve is going to _kill_ you."

"God, Stark, you couldn't even make it to a bathroom?"

Tony glared at Clint. "Really? You're going to be juvenile when I'm facing death at the hands of an irate American icon?"

Clint rolled his eyes and swiped a finger across the brown mark, putting it into his mouth.

"Ew," came a chorus of tiny voices. Clint smirked at Tony's blank stare.

"It's Reese's. You have Reese's. On your ass."

One of the remaining father's snorted a laugh, meeting Tony's gaze unrepentantly when the billionaire narrowed his eyes at him. Tony turned back to Clint. "How?"

"Oops." Abby looked sorrowful and the two men deflated slightly. One mother paused in the act of herding her kids towards the street.

"Brush the larger bits off with an old toothbrush and then treat the stain with club soda," she advised. "Just keep blotting until it's gone."

"Thank you," Bruce said in return, and began nudging his charges towards the car. "Come on, time to go home. Let's hope he doesn't get home before I treat it."

"Noble of you to save me from a lecture, Banner," Tony offered.

"Mmhmm," he murmured, ushering them into the car. "Remember that in a few days."

* * *

The television was on and blaring when Steve came home later that night. The low table was covered from end to end with piles of brightly colored wrappers, Abby perched in her dress in the center of it all.

She waved happily at the soldier when he entered, one hand fisted around a lollipop stick, but made no move to attempt to extricate herself. Clint was on the couch, a multitude of empty and full beer bottles on the table to his right. Tony reclined on the opposite side, still wearing Steve's uniform jacket and a pair of running shorts that Bruce was certain were not actually Tony's.

"Hi," Steve began cautiously. "How did it go?"

Clint shrugged, tipping a bottle into his mouth. "Fine. Kid made out like a fucking bandit."

"I see that." Steve hesitated and fixed his gaze on Tony. "So you went as Captain America?"

"Pepper wouldn't let me be Iron Man," the billionaire muttered petulantly into his tumbler of scotch.

Steve nodded, one hand clenching reflexively at his side. "Where are my pants?"

The trio all pointed behind them, their attention firmly on the Charlie Brown Halloween special on the television. "In the kitchen."

Steve glanced up, finally noticing Bruce standing at the sink with his pants legs draped over the counter. He turned back to Tony. "Why are my pants in the kitchen?"

"Abby," Clint asked leadingly. Bruce suppressed a smile. "Why are Steve's pants in the kitchen?"

She shifted in her perch, sending a pile of Tootsie Rolls cascading to the floor. "To get cleaned."

"Why?" Clint reiterated.

"Because Uncle Tony sat in chocolate."

Steve made a strangled noise in his throat and looked entreatingly at Bruce. Bruce held up a forestalling hand, trying to reassure him. Natasha appeared from the sub-basement, a bottle of stain cleaner in hand.

Tony leaned forward and poked gently at Abby's shoulder. "Why did Uncle Tony sit in chocolate?"

"Because it had peanut butter in it and it tasted funny and I didn't want it," she protested.

Steve sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his brow. "I hope it comes out before some photographer catches it," he muttered to himself. Bruce scrubbed vigorously at the stain, ignoring Natasha's interest. "That'll be great PR."

"We should really scotchguard your suit," Tony said absently. "Might make it easier to live with a munchkin."

Abby hauled herself to her feet and pouted pleadingly at Steve. "You're not mad, are you?"

He sighed and walked towards her, ignoring the protests from Tony and Clint that he was blocking the television. She raised her arms and he picked her up, moving out of the two men's way.

"I'm not mad, sweetheart," he assured her, setting her down and kneeling to her level. "That thing went through Germany, the helicarrier, and New York. I think it can survive a little girl."

"I don't know about that, Spangles," Tony piped up. "What about the rips and the grime from New York? That took some effort to repair."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Stark. You can't even go trick or treating in my uniform without something happening to it. At least I managed two whole battles before it was damaged."

Abby swayed slightly on her feet, bumping into his shoulder, and he glanced at her. She blinked sleepily up at him and yawned widely. He stood, picking her up, and headed towards the stairs. Clint turned at the movement and grinned wickedly.

"Going to tuck me in too, Cap?"

"Are you my sweetheart?" Steve asked calmly as Abby laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"No," Clint replied.

Steve continued walking to the stairs. "Then no."

Natasha joined them from the kitchen where Bruce was looking satisfactorily at the freshly cleaned pants and grabbed Clint's hand. She tugged him from the couch and Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

"Where are you going?"

She gave him an arch look. "I am taking Prince Charming to bed."

Clint grinned lecherously as he followed her up the stairs. Bruce turned the television off and swept the candy back into Abby's bags. He handed Tony the damp slacks and herded him towards the bedrooms. The billionaire stumbled slightly down the hallway, dropping the cleaned pants by Steve's door and stripping the jacket as he walked. Bruce paused by Abby's door, listening.

"Sweetheart," Steve asked, his voice carefully blank. "Did Uncle Tony take my shield, too?"

"Yeah," she told him, crawling under the covers.

Steve sighed tiredly. "Did he lose it?"

"No, it's in the car."

"Thank God," Steve breathed. He smiled down at her, tucking the covers securely around her and flicking the nightlight on. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," she replied softly, tugging at Phil C. Bear's suit jacket. "But I missed you."

Bruce ducked out of the doorway, smiling. Steve pressed a tender kiss to her forehead as she drifted off to sleep. "Yeah, I missed you too."

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
